Revenge

Allen Kassebaum

Larson lifted
his left paw. This
gesture
was a prearranged signal with the troop rats to stop and take a five
minute
break. Larson, and his six compatriots, sat down inside the sewer
system
that ran parallel to Pennsylvania Avenue. Larson quietly sat in the
shadows
and watched his friends eat some sunflower seeds to keep their
strength.
They all knew that a lot would be required of them before the night was
over. As Stealth, a member of the squadron, quietly conversed with Mic,
Larson thought back on the events that had brought them to this
important
point in their lives.

The seven of them had grown up in
the
occupied
territories of Israel. Life had been hard. Many a night when they did
not
have food. What they remembered the most was what happened to their
parents.
When they were just a couple of months old (the life span is shorter
for
rats, than it is for humans) their parents were taken by ruthless
Israel
rats. Their parents were accused of plotting to overthrow the
government.
Larson knew that this was not the case; he gathered the rest of his
friends
together and they decided to make the government pay for taking their
parents.
Later that month they bombed an Israeli government building, putting
them
on the most wanted list in Israel.

Just a few short months after that
event
that
the group of friends arrived in Libya to start training as terrorists,
they would be taught by the best. Members of the PRO, the Palestinian
Rat
Organization, would adopt them and show them how to hit the enemy where
it hurts the most. With the training that they received at this camp
they
were destined to become the best terrorist group of their time. They
were
responsible for the hijacking of passengers on the Achile Lauro.

Shortly after that event the members
of
the
group grew tired with their life of terrorism and decided to hire
themselves
out as elite assassins. Besides the more prestige, killing important
politicians
in the world pays more money. Only a couple of months ago the group
received
its first commission, they were to assassinate the President of the Rat
Nation of America.

Larson remembered the events
vividly.
This
war started just under five months ago when the human leader of Iraq,
Saddam
Hussein, attacked and defeated his neighbor, Kuwait. The United States
acted in typical fashion and moved their military to block any further
moves. Between that instance and this current point there had been
nothing
but increased tensions. Ahkmed, the president of the little known Iraqi
rat nation, wanted to strike at the heart of the Rat Nation of America.
With this in mind Ahkmed ordered his special forces to find and hire a
group that would be willing to assassinate his counterpart in Rat
America.

Word had been sent to the country of
Libya.
Here the best assassins in the world could be found. From these groups
Ahkmed planned to chose the courageous warriors that would carry the
war
to the homeland of the Satanic followers, The Rat Nation of America.
Larson
and his rats were chosen from the many assassins, individual groups,
and
the more famous PRO members (Palestinian Rat organization). Larson and
his group were to infiltrate the White House and kill the president and
teach those infidels a lesson.

Slash and Death, the rat twins,
brought
Larson
out of his half-sleep. Using sign language they told him that there was
something coming, possible a patrol. With a couple of quick, silent,
commands
Larson and his patrol disappeared into the shadows hiding behind a
couple
of six packs of coke.

After a few minutes of tense
waiting,
Larson
saw a cat approaching out of the sewer shadows. At the sight of the cat
Larson had a quick gasp of air. He was not afraid of the cat-- after
all
he and his rats were armed with the latest rat technology. No it was
not
the cat but what probably followed the cat. All rats knew that the Rat
Nation of America had long ago trained cats to be their personnel
carriers.
With this in mind, Larson kept an eye open for anybody that was moving
in the shadows; his patience paid off. There was a small group of rats
moving in the shadows behind the cat. Larson did not have a good
vantage
point behind the can of coke, but he knew that they had to be the
feared
Black Berets, the elite guards of the Rat President. Rumor had it that
they were psychotic and would kill themselves for the pleasure of
seeing
blood. Many believed that they would attack humans to demonstrate their
courage (something only an insane rat would try). Larson knew that it
would
be best to let them pass by without any action, he didn't want to alert
the defense forces that they were in the vicinity. Besides there would
be enough Black Berets to kill once they got closer to the president.

After a few minutes had passed, and
the
Black
Berets were out of sight, Larson gave a low whistle-- reuniting his
patrol
of rats. In total there were seven rats. Larson was the leader. He was
equipped with the following: the AK-.47, a smaller and deadlier version
of the ak-47, a catknife, a 9micrometer handgun, a map, and night
fighting
gear. In addition to this Larson was wearing black

clothing and he was proficient in the martial arts. The other
six
rats
were armed in the same basic fashion with a few exceptions. Slash, he
got
this nickname because he was deadly with his catknife, carried the rope
for the patrol. Death, if a rat saw him he was sure to die, he was a
mean
rat, the marksrat, carried the rat version of the Galil assault rifle,
a .0022 Galil. This weapon was built by the people they hated the most,
Israel rats. Larson's group had recently acquired it, because it was
the
best on the market. Nitro carried the plastic explosives in case they
couldn't
get through a door with their door picks. Stealth carried the door
picks
and was the pointrat on the mission. Mic, the radiorat, and Doc, the
medic,
usually brought up the rear.

After Larson reoriented himself in
the
sewer,
the group turned west heading for the White House. After a few minutes
of wading through water, they reached the security gate. At this point,
the rats returned to the surface. Instead of trying to go through the
rat
security they would infiltrate the White House via human security
posts.
Small rodents could easily get by humans.

After a few short minutes the patrol
reached
the surface, and they were through the gates. Now came one of the
hardest
parts of the mission. Rumor had it that the American rats had enlisted
the help of a owl for air defense around the White House. The patrol
needed
to stay in the shadows and move slowly and pray that the Owl's sharp
eyes
could not see them. They were about half way across the lawn when the
patrol
heard a loud sound. The Owl must have spotted them. The Owl's cry
pierced
the night like a Klaxon.

Hoot. Hoot. Hoot.

Now that the patrol was found they
would
no
longer remain hidden. The group sprinted toward the main doors spitting
machine gun fire at the guards. The bullets riddled the rats bodies.
They
had been completely surprised. The Black Berets fell low like a as if
it
was the annual feeding frenzy.

As the rat patrol entered the
corridors
underneath
the White House Doc hit the ground in a shower of blood. An anti-rat
mine
had been planted in the tunnel floor. Doc had stepped on the mine and
ceased
to exist. Bits of flesh could be seen on the walls as the group ran
deeper
into the White House. Larson could not let the loss of Doc stop them,
they
had a mission to accomplish.

In the moments that followed Larson
had
never
seen such a blood bath. The speed of the patrol allowed them to catch
many
of the Black Beret guards off guard. However, for every corner and
intersection
the group passed on its way into the heart of the White House, another
member passed on to the happy hunting grounds in the sky. Most were
violent
deaths. Mic died an agonizing death, he was caught from behind by a cat
and toyed with for a minute or two before being pulled apart at the
limbs.
Nitro and Stealth bit the dust trying to save Larson from a machine gun
bunker blocking the passageway. They took the bunker out by rushing it
and killing the occupants. Unfortunately they left half their body in
the
hallway leading up to the bunker, as they died they looked like swiss
cheese.

Soon it was only Larson, Slash, and
Death.
These three were the elite of the elite. The group was successful in
winning
through to the President's sleeping quarters. Unfortunately they had
taken
too long. The President was gone and had been replaced by a score or
more
Black Berets. Bullets sprayed about the room killing many a rat. In the
center, Larson detonated a sleep grenade filling the room with gas.
Soon
all were asleep with the exception of Larson, Slash, and Death. Larson
was secure in his knowledge that they had shown the American of their
ability
to hit the homeland. Even though they were unsuccessful the group would
live to fight another day.